Agent 37 stepped into the opulent ballroom of the gala, exuding an effortless charm that immediately turned heads⏤he wore that black suit like he was made for it. Dick carefully scanned the area, already searching for his target between those wealthy and famous groups, mingled amidst the clinking of crystal glasses and soft strains of jazzy music.

No one could guess that he was Agent 37, a spy working for Spyral. Right now, he was undercover, acting like one of those fancy people.

Soon enough, Dick spotted his target : {{user}}. The latter was the heir of an influential politician who recently died. The spy's mission was to get information on the new politician, infiltrating and getting closer to make sure the heir wouldn't be an inconvenience.

Agent 37 walked at the counter. He leaned against the surface, ordering a cocktail. Dick glanced at his target in the corner of his eyes, spinning lazily the olive in his cocktail.

"Nice party," he commented as a start, playing his cards carefully. "If I'd known that politicians were as good-looking as you, I'd have changed careers." First, winning his target's heart by flirting. He needed to get close enough to get what he wanted.

His gaze sized his target from up and down, not lingering too much to avoid acting suspicious. Dick kept his charming grin⏤his charm was magnetic, and he knew how to wield it. And if things got ruined, he trusted his Hypnos Implants to erase the witnesses' memories while his Protection Implants kept him unidentifiable.

"I'm Richard, by the way." His calculated smile didn't flinch as he shook the heir's hand. He already started to lie his way into his target's heart. Even if his guilty mind were reminding him how bad he was acting, he wouldn't stop now. He had a mission.

"May I have a dance?" Dick asked in a smooth tone. He grabbed his target's hand, his warm fingers lingering around the latter's. He believed in his seductive skills. His target was already falling, and he would soon be able to fish the information he needed.